


Familiar

by SeraphHT



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Affection, Angst, Denial of Feelings, F/M, One Shot, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27348505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphHT/pseuds/SeraphHT
Summary: What if Boone instead dealt with his grief by screwing everything that moves, except the Courier (who desperately wants in)? Maybe he's going for no-strings-attached, no-feelings fucking, and the Courier represents the danger of feeling something for someone again? (A fill for the kinkmeme)
Relationships: Craig Boone/Courier (Fallout), Craig Boone/Female Courier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Familiar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Just_A_NEET](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_NEET/gifts).



> The prompt on the Livejournal kinkmeme is similar to what's in the summary. I opted out of writing some smut for this part, instead focused on the emotions for a little angst/sweet fic. Hope it worked!

The two of them sat around a campfire in Bitter Springs. The grateful refugees emptied out one of their tents to allow them a place to sleep for the night, so here they were, sharing whiskey under the night sky. For the first time in a long time, Boone could see clearly.

He had one person to thank for that.

She was staring at the fire. He could see the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes, and he liked how the soft lighting cast perfect shadows on her face. She was more beautiful every time he looked at her.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, shifting her gaze to him and inadvertently catching him staring. He looked away quickly as she placed a hand on his knee. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, acutely aware of the weight of her hand. He took a quick sip of the whiskey in his shot glass. “You’re the one who ate a bullet earlier.”

He didn’t like her asking about his condition. It was strange; an indirect cue that his health mattered to somebody. The question was simple, but it reminded him of a past life he already forgot about. Or tried to forget.

“That isn’t anything, so don’t worry about me,” she said and he could hear the smile. “We came here because of you. These people are safe because of you. I hope you feel better.”

There were a few moments of silence as he looked from the fire, to the hand on his leg, then back to the fire. Almost hesitantly, he started, “Look, I wanted to say thank you. I didn’t think coming back here would work… but I’m glad it turned out the way it did.”

Her hand slid a little bit upwards with a gentle squeeze, startling him just enough to look at her. Immediately, he met again with her sleek brown eyes, illuminated by orange flames.

“I’m glad I dragged your ass out here then,” she smiled, leaning forward towards him.

Boone glanced at her lips, then back at her eyes. “Me too.”

He could see that she was already slightly drunk. It was a rare sight and it felt wrong. Most of the people he spent time with were drunk out of their minds when he started undressing them. Too many, he had lost count. It was wrong to see her like this, in the same place as those nameless, faceless people.

“Why don’t you tell me more about how much you appreciate me?” she said, lightly ghosting a hand over his inner thigh before moving on to patting away an invisible speck of dust on his shoulder. “You hardly talk to me unless if I start the conversation. Which is a shame, because I love hearing your voice.”

“You’re drunk,” he remarked, putting his hand on hers in an attempt to remove it, ignoring the warmth it ignited in him.

Instead she held his hand tightly. “Even when I’m not drunk, I like to try my luck with you,” she replied, interlacing their fingers together, enjoying the way Boone stared. “Maybe tonight I’ll get lucky.”

He felt his heart leap to his throat as she gently pressed a thumb against his palm. “What are you doing?” he narrowed his eyes at her, not knowing what to feel about the foreign pressure. No malice, no sexual assertion. Just an innocent touch, and he felt lost.

“I like you, Boone,” she said, smiling sweetly as she brushed her lips on his palm and pressed it against her cheek. “Why don’t you come a little closer?”

Those lips on his hand were something else. He felt the heat at the bottom of his stomach, oh so familiar and more common than he would like to admit. Yet, accompanying the arousal this time was a strange feeling. Warmth.

He had been too distracted by his mild arousal to stop his companion from guiding his lips to hers. Almost automatically, he closed his eyes and was thrown into a world of simmering sensuality with the unhurried rush of soft lips against lips. When was the last time he actually _kissed_?

So tender. Carla. He snapped back as if he had been slapped.

“What’s wrong?”

“You should get some sleep,” he said, brushing his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood up. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Really?” she arched a brow as he walked off. “Did you really mean to say, ‘I’m going to go fuck the first three people I see’?”

He stopped. That was the first time she (or anyone, really) directly addressed his ‘habit’. He always knew that she knew, but hearing her say it outright stung him.

With a deep breath, he replied to the sky, “You know why I do that.”

“Yeah, and I surely don’t judge you for it,” she said as she stood up. “I just so happened to notice you’d do it with any poor sucker who so much as looks at you, except for me.”

_That_ made him look at her. Her face was set in a small scowl: part disappointed, part hurt.

“…I know,” he confirmed, quietly.

“Hm, I guess you just don’t like the scars, huh?” she laughed self-depreciatively, taking another shot of whiskey. “Seems like I can’t get you to like me, no matter what I do.”

She disappeared into the tent, leaving him standing there on his own. He took another deep breath, ignored the growing guilt and looked up at the sky. Despite the sea of stars, all he could see was her face etched in frustration.

He entered the tent, stepping in just as she had changed into some night rags. Without the bulky armour, he could see the shape of her body; the curves and the scars. A body just like everyone else he had been with before, but also unlike them in a way that was personal. She was someone. Someone who mattered.

“I thought you were going on a walk?” she asked, puzzled.

He closed the entrance behind him, never taking his eyes off her as he slowly stepped in her direction. “Change of plans.”

He knew she wanted him. Her attempts were numerous, and they started out subtle to being plain obvious. She was always so tender and it was alien compared to the rough greediness he used as distraction. As much as she was arousing, he didn’t like the way she advanced on him, nor the _feeling_ he felt whenever she did. The warmth, the mindfulness. The affection.

“Oh?” she smirked just a little, interest growing as he drew nearer. “No walk, then? What are you going to do?”

There was something deeper than lust in the way she looked at him.

“You’ve done more for me than most,” he said, stopping just an arm’s length away, suddenly unsure what to do. “Just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong about you.”

“I know that,” she laughed; such a sweet sound. She closed the distance between them to trace his collarbone. “I’ve always known that I look good.”

“I’m just not used to this,” he said, his breath wavering every so slightly at the fingers on his neck. He held her wrist. “You’re too close to home.”

“Well, maybe home is where you need to be,” she smiled, eyes drifting from his eyes, to his lips, and back to his eyes. “I’ll take you there, if you’d let me.”

And so he did. He let her kiss him, surrendering to the world of tenderness and affection that he thought he had forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Do leave kudos!


End file.
